Chocolate Most Deadly (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 2) (10 page)

CHAPTER
20

I was in the kitchen measuring
flour for an apple tart the next morning at nine when Harper came through the
revolving door from the dining room.

“Katie!” she whispered. “He’s
back!”

I glanced up at the familiar pink
cheeks, trembling lower lip and wide gaze that signaled my childhood friend was
moments away from erupting in anxious laughter.

“Are you giving me at least one
clue?” I asked. “Or do I have to guess the stranger’s identity based on your
rose-colored face and breathless voice?”

She huffed. “Well, you don’t have
to make fun of me! I was trying to be excited on your behalf.”

I put down the measuring cup and
wiped both hands on my apron. “I was just teasing you, sweetie. Who are we
talking about?”

“The photographer,” she said,
trying to contain a serious case of the giggles. “From the other day.”

Hearing that Zachary Hutton had
come to see me sent a tiny shudder of curious joy through my body. He was
around my age. He was single. And he was the kind of man I found more than a
little enticing. But I couldn’t shake the thought that my nervous behavior when
he was taking my picture made me look like a complete airhead.

“Is he in the dining room?” I
asked, taking a slow breath to calm my nerves.

Harper shook her head. “Front
porch. In one of the rocking chairs.” She pushed the door open with her rear.
“And he’s got a bouquet of flowers!”

As she spun out of the kitchen,
leaving the door to flap in her wake, I felt my lips leap into an enormous
smile. Zack was on the front porch. With flowers. For me.

“You might want to tidy up your
hair,” Julia said from the other side of the room.

I glanced over my shoulder. She was
giving me an affectionate grin, the kind of look that I’d come to know and love
after working with her for the past few weeks.

“Is it bad?” I asked.

She nodded. “Have you ever seen
pictures of female astronauts in outer space?” She paused. I smiled. “And they
look like one of those little troll dolls?”

I raced to the mirror in the
hallway. Julia had exaggerated things a bit; my hair wasn’t sticking straight
up, but it was a little tousled. I did a quick tuck-and-tidy operation with my
hands before taking a deep breath and heading for the front porch.

Zack was sitting on the edge of one
of the rocking chairs when I came through the screen door. He smiled and got
up, holding out a bunch of wildflowers tied with raffia.

“Are those for me?”

He nodded.

“Well, they’re gorgeous.” I took
the bouquet and pressed it to my nose. “Thank you very much,” I added. “But you
didn’t have to, Zack.”

His mouth squirmed into a zigzag
grin. “Actually, they’re from Gretchen. She wanted to thank you for taking time
to do the interview.”

A trapdoor opened beneath my heart
and it plummeted into an abyss of embarrassment and humiliation. “Uh, well…”

His face had flushed red and he was
having trouble keeping his eyes on me. He shuffled back and forth, left to
right, right to left, and muttered something about how many great comments the
newspaper’s website had received about the article on Sky High Pies.

“And it’s kind of f-f-funny,” he
stammered. “Because Gretchen kept saying they were through the roof. And that’s
just like the name of your place, right?”

I nodded. And blinked. And tried to
think of something intelligent to say.

“How’s your camera?” I mumbled.

He answered with a nervous laugh.
“My what?”

“Oh, never mind,” I said. “I feel
like such an idiot. I should’ve never assumed the flowers were…” I didn’t want to
finish the thought. “But it was very kind of Gretchen,” I said, trying to
recover at least a few morsels of dignity before vanishing inside and locking
myself in the pantry. “I’m glad that the article worked out.”

Zack stared at his feet. Then he
slowly looked up. “She posted it last night, ” he said. “Did you see it? Was
the photograph okay?”

I shrugged. “I never like seeing
myself,” I answered honestly. “When we went on family vacations, I took all the
pictures. That’s why my mother’s scrapbooks only have a few shots of me.”

He snickered softly. “I bet you
look real cute in them.” His voice was steady and warm, sprinkled with
overtones of easygoing charm. “But that’s just my humble opinion.”

I pushed the butterflies in my
stomach aside. Since my ex-boyfriend had unexpectedly dumped me back in Chicago,
the thought of romance was the last thing on my mind. And even though my sister
kept suggesting that I rekindle the long ago love that Trent and I shared
during high school, I’d persisted in reminding her that he had also left me for
another woman. “Exactly right,” Olivia had replied at the time. “But you know
what they say? Third time lucky!”

I was thinking about my sister when
Zack said my name.

“Oh, sorry,” I sputtered. “I was
thinking about someone.”

He frowned. “That doesn’t do much
for my confidence, Kate.”

“It was actually my sister. She has
a certain way of needling me mercilessly about things like taking compliments
and not making a fool of myself when a handsome guy tells me that he thinks I’d
probably look cute in an old family photograph.”

A glimmer of recognition crossed
his face. “Sisters aren’t the only ones who can do that. My older brother has
the market cornered on taunting me ruthlessly. Even though we’re adults now, he
can still knock me off my feet with one sharp remark.”

I put the flowers on a side table
amongst the row of rocking chairs. Then I gestured at where he’d been sitting.
“We might as well be comfortable,” I said, gently landing on the next chair.
“This is a rare chance for me to take a load off during the work day.”

He nodded and sat down. “You do
stay pretty busy in there, Kate. From what I hear around town, you’re doing a
great job of continuing the family tradition.”

I smiled as my cheeks went pink
again. “I had good role models. My Nana Reed was amazing. And my parents did an
incredible job of taking over after she got sick and passed away.”

The bright look on his face dimmed.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Kate. I didn’t realize your grandmother was gone.”

“Thanks, Zack. It’s been quite a
few years, but I still miss her every day. Now that I’m back in Crescent Creek,
that longing is even stronger. I’m using her recipes. Cooking in her kitchen.
Wearing her favorite blue apron sometimes when I bake.”

“Your brother always talked about her
when we were younger,” Zack said. “And I remember her from when I came here
with my family. Your grandmother was always so kind and funny when she’d stop
by the table and make sure everything was okay.”

I nodded, reminiscing about Nana
Reed’s incredible talent for gracious hospitality. She adored talking to
customers as much as she loved baking pies.

“Do you miss Chicago?” asked Zack.

I blinked, coming back from the
memory. “Not so much. I miss my friends. And some of my favorite shops and
restaurants. But the last few days there were pretty rough.”

“I heard about your boss,” he said
quietly. “That must’ve been really hard on you.”

I nodded. “Even harder on his wife
and kids. Rodney was one of a kind, that’s for sure. And he was dedicated to
his work.” I paused, feeling a pang of sorrow. “Maybe too dedicated.”

“Is that how he lost his life?”

I didn’t really want to discuss
Rodney’s murder. It was one of the most traumatic things I’d survived, and I
wasn’t in the mood to share details about it while sitting in a rocking chair
on a sunny day. As I tried to think of the best way to deflect the question,
Zack leaned forward in his chair.

“You know what?” he said. “That was
rude of me. I guess it was out of my mouth before I realized how impolite it
was.” He paused for a moment, possibly to hear if I might respond. But I was
staring at a spot in the distance just beyond the porch railing, clenching my
teeth to try and stop the tears that were gathering in my eyes. “Anyway, I
wanted to deliver the flowers,” he added, sliding out of the chair and standing
in front of me. “It was good to see you again, Kate.” He held out his hand.
“And I’m sorry about being such a dunce.”

I shook his hand, relishing the
warmth of his skin and the strength of his grip. Then I pushed up from my chair
and shook off the sadness.

“Yeah, uh…” I swallowed, searching
for the right words. “Do you miss Dallas?” I blurted. “Isn’t that where you
said you were living before coming back to Crescent Creek?”

He smiled. “Dallas was before Austin,”
he said. “I did a two-city tour of Texas for about three years.”

“Working for newspapers?”

“Freelance stuff mostly,” he said.
“I shot for the local media, ad agencies, nonprofit groups. Basically, anybody
that would pay me a dime so I could cover my rent.”

“Sounds adventurous,” I suggested.
“Taking off from home to seek your fortune.”

He laughed and threw back his head.
“My fortune? I don’t know about that. But it was a good experience overall. I
met some great people. Shot some good images. And I learned that Colorado is
where I belong.”

I suddenly realized that I was
still holding his hand and dropped it like a hot potato.

“Wow!” My face burned with
embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to try and steal that.”

He frowned. “What are you talking
about?”

“You know,” I said. “Your hand.”

He shook his head. “I’m not
following you.”

I moaned and did my best to explain
that I felt embarrassed because I held his hand for such a long time after we
stopped shaking.

“Oh,
that
!” A luminous smile
stretched across his face. “I kind of liked it, if you want to know the truth.”

CHAPTER
21

The moment I stepped into the
dining room from the porch, Harper was at my side with a whispered inquiry and
a sheepish grin.

“What was
that
all about?”
she said. “Did he ask you out on a date?”

I slowly turned and shook my head.
“The flowers were from Gretchen Goode at the newspaper. Just a little thank you
for doing the article.”

Harper sniffed. “Is that the
truth?” she asked. “Or is this one of the times you’re pulling the wool over my
eyes?”

“Not a chance,” I said, waving at a
young couple as they came in the front door. “And look—there’s Martin and
Diana. Do you want to seat them while I go check in with Julia?”

As I made my way across the room,
someone called my name. It was a woman who once worked at Sky High for my
parents. She’d moved away from Crescent Creek a long time ago, but still
returned once a year to visit her daughter and son-in-law.

“Mrs. Swift!” I leaned down and
kissed her cheek. “How are you?”

“Fit as a fiddle,” she said cheerfully.
“I’m going back to Santa Fe in a few days, but I wanted to make sure I stopped
in to see how you’re coming along.”

I swept my hand through the air at
the bustling scene that surrounded us. “I’m holding my own,” I said. “But I’ve
got a great team, so that makes it all possible.”

“Isn’t that the truth? Your mother
and father always said the same thing when I worked here. Must be a Reed family
tradition; modesty and graciousness blended with a gift for hospitality.”

Her kind words filled my heart with
pride. When I was madly dashing through the days and trying to manage paperwork
at night, it was easy to forget that the foundation for Sky High was offering a
warm smile and genuine kindness along with a slice of pie.

“I remember Harper from when you and
she were little girls,” Mrs. Swift said. “The two of you would come in after
school to gobble up mountains of cookies. Then you’d tear out the door and run
upstairs to the little apartment and watch TV on that black-and-white set your
grandmother had so she could keep up with her soap operas.”

As I listened to the old woman
reminisce, warm waves of nostalgia and sadness and joy twined through my heart.
I missed my grandmother. I missed my parents. And I missed the carefree days of
childhood, when Harper and I were as close as two girls can be and our most
pressing concerns involved which boys we thought were cute and whether or not
they’d ever outgrow the infantile stage.

“Why the frown?” asked Mrs. Swift,
taking my hand.

I pressed my lips into a smile. “No
frown,” I said. “Just lost in thought.”

“Welcome to my world,” she said
with a soft chuckle. “Since my Harry died, I’ve spent half my time thinking
about the past and the other half trying to remember what I’m supposed to be
doing in the present.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said softly.
“I didn’t realize your husband had passed away.”

She raised one hand, closed her
fingers over the palm and then slowly let them fall open.

“We think we can hold our world in
one place forever,” she said. “But that’s not how this journey goes. We’re only
here for a fleeting moment. And then we’re gone.”

The expression on her face was
sorrow pierced with wisdom and serenity. I tried quickly to picture her
husband, imagining that he must’ve come to Sky High at some point when she
worked for my parents, but I couldn’t summon anything at all.

“How long were you and Harry
married?” I asked.

“It’s been fifty years,” Mrs. Swift
said. “Fifty years, five months, two weeks and a day since our wedding.” The
wisps of sorrow in her eyes vanished as a smile appeared. “It was a dreadfully
cold day in March. Harry was due to leave for the Army the following week. We
were wed in a sweet little chapel in Flagstaff before spending our honeymoon in
a cabin on some property that his uncle owned not far from Oak Creek Canyon.”

I clasped my hands and pressed them
to my chest. “How absolutely perfect! I can’t imagine a more picturesque
setting for such a magical event.”

Mrs. Swift nodded in agreement.
“You’re so very right, dear.” She winked and fluttered one eyebrow. “I’d
recommend it for your nuptials, Kate. If and when that day comes along.”

I smiled, but kept my thoughts to
myself. Mrs. Swift didn’t need to hear the jumble of emotions that her comment
had unleashed about my ex-boyfriend in Chicago. Or Trent Walsh, the high school
heartthrob who’d dumped me for Dina Kincaid.
I’m over them both
, a voice
whispered in my head.
I’ll find someone when the time is right. I’ve got to
focus on myself now. And the business. And the—

“Kate?”

Mrs. Swift’s voice cleaved the
avalanche of anxious burbling.

“Yes?”

She delicately folded her hands and
put them on the table. Then she announced that she was going to reveal the
secret to a long and happy life.

“It’s something I learned the hard
way, dear,” she said gently. “And I’d like to share it with you in the hopes
that it might spare your heart from some unnecessary bumps and bruises.”

I sighed and waited. The bell on
the front door chimed, but I kept my focus on Mrs. Swift.

“You see, Kate,” she said,
motioning for me to come closer. “The most important thing that I’ve learned in
my life is—”

“Hey, Kate!”

A hand touched my shoulder and I
spun around. It was Trent, dressed in a suit and tie.

“Hi, Deputy Chief Walsh,” I said,
doing my best to sound professional. “I’m right in the middle of something
here, so if you could just give me a sec?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said,
smiling at Mrs. Swift. “But it’s kind of urgent. I was on the phone with Adam
Caldwell this morning.” He stopped there, letting me fill in the blanks. “Maybe
just ten minutes in your office?”

I nodded and told him that I’d be
right there. Then I apologized to Mrs. Swift.

“Don’t you worry about it, Kate,”
she said. “I can see that the Walsh boy has something important to tell you.
I’ll finish my story another time.”

I didn’t want to walk away without
hearing Mrs. Swift’s secret of eternal happiness, but the mood had changed and
the spell had been broken.

“Can we can have dinner before you
go back home?” I asked.

Her eyes twinkled. “Wouldn’t that
be nice?” she said. “My calendar’s chockablock full, but maybe you and the
Walsh boy could come to Blanche Speltzer’s next week. She’s throwing a little
party, and it would be lovely if you could join us. You should bring dates if
you’re not going out with each other.” She paused, raising one eyebrow. “It’ll
be just a few people for cocktails and fondue. Do you know what fondue is,
dear? It used to be very popular back in my day.”

“Sure,” I said. “The melted cheese
and chocolate that you dip things in.”

“That’s it exactly,” Mrs. Swift
said. “Now, you should probably scoot. He had a pretty serious look in his eye.
Are you in some kind of trouble with the law, Katie?”

I shrugged. “Not yet,” I said. “But
the day is young.”

She laughed. “Well, mind your manners
and you’ll be just fine. I’ll check with Blanche to make sure she’s got room
for a few more young people at the soirée. It’s one of her wild ideas, a
gathering of all ages to discuss current events. I also think she has some type
of announcement to make. She fancies herself to be the Gertrude Stein of
Crescent Creek. You know—hosting salons where smart and talented people get
together and discuss literature and the arts?”

“Sure, I know the name.”

She raised both hands and fluttered
her fingers at me. “Go on then, dear. You don’t want to keep Deputy Chief Walsh
waiting too long.”